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“I’m good.” He nods to the box of food on the table. “Do you have allergies to any foods?”
“No.”
“Things you don’t like?”
“No, I’m just trying to eat light, since I don’t know what’s coming next.” My gaze falls to my lap. Why did I say that? I don’t really handle stress or change all that well. If I eat too much when I’m nervous, then I’ll end up with an upset stomach.
Which is not something you admit to the gorgeous, growly rock star, I remind myself.
“You’ll get the hang of it. It takes a little time, but once you do, you’ll see it’s always the same. Days are spent practicing and testing the acoustics of the venue, afternoons are free unless we’ve got press to do, evening shows, and then hitting the bus to travel all night before we do it all over again.” The warm heat of his breath fans over my neck as he speaks close to my ear. Wow, he isreallyclose. My leg shakes under the table, and a large hand lands on it, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I stare at the contact in shock. “Really, don’t let it intimidate you. It’s not all that glamorous once you do it for long enough.”
Glamorous? It sounds terrible.
My impulses thrive on having a safe place to retreat to.
I’ve always been a homebody. I like comfortable pajamas and having a home base where I can regroup after a long day.
Routine helps me feel safe.
I tricked myself into being optimistic about this tour because it’s a great opportunity to get my foot in the door as a photographer for Ruined Records. But it’s also hard to imagine bouncing all around the country and never staying in one place.
It’s complicated because, even as an omega, I still have to make a living.
My family pack helped pay for college, and they’ve made it clear they aren’t kicking me out of my childhood home, but it’s also embarrassing that I’ve never lived on my own.
Luckily, I had most of my basic core educational college classes done before graduating high school. I love my family. Continuing to take advantage of their kindness seems like a crappy way to repay all they’ve done for me.
I don’t come from a wealthy pack, like Fitz and Shanna. I only attended the same high school they did because I got a scholarship.
My two older sisters had the same opportunity, and they ended up leaving high school practically bonded. Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but they did end up sticking with the same pack, long-term.
It’s ridiculous to feel left out, considering my age, but I haven’t even had my first heat yet. I’m entering the danger zone of never presenting, despite my designation.
Over ninety-eight percent of omegas have their first heat prior to turning twenty-one.
My scent has always made it clear that I’m an omega. Physically, I have the anatomy necessary to take a knot, but what alpha would want to bond with an omega who doesn’t have a heat cycle?
None, that’s who.
It’s a terrifying prospect, because I’ve always had the impulses that define my designation. I want a family and a pack full of alphas to protect, love, and cherish me. I’ll gladly do the same in return.
Even during college, I wasn’t bombarded with men trying to date me. There were a few, but no alphas. My grandma lied when she swore I’d be beating them off with a stick when I got older. I snort at the thought.
“After we leave here, we’ll find Karla,” Warrick says against the shell of my ear. “She’s the nutritionist who runs food services for the tour. She’ll be able to find you options that you like.”
My head shakes, and my cheek brushes against his mouth. He’s warm, and the contact is surprising.
“No, that’s okay. I’m not picky. Truly, I’m not.” I bite my lip to keep more rambling from escaping. I’ll say the same thing in fifteen different ways if I’m not careful.
“You’d be surprised how quickly being on the road can take a toll on your body,” Warrick says. “If you’re not eating regular healthy meals, it’ll zap your energy before you know it.” He stretches back, giving me a stern look. “It’s especially important because you’re an omega. You can’t expect to stockpile nutrients for your heat if you’re just eating junk or, even worse, barely eating at all.”
My stomach drops, but I nod to let him know I hear what he’s saying. I’m not on suppressants, and I haven’t had one yet.
Little does he know, there’s a chance I never will.
There’s no way he could understand how that comment cuts a little too close to home, so I give him a polite smile and focus back on the guys’ practice.
ChapterFour
